A young New Yorker finds himself in over his head after finding a symbiote that changes him in unexpected ways.

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Chapter 7 The truth.

I creep closer to the old metal vent that sticks out of the rooftop like a rusty sore.

It’s ancient, half-covered in peeling paint, but still wide open enough to let sound drift up from the lobby below.

I press my ear to it, heart hammering, barely daring to breathe.

Muffled voices drift up through the vent, warped but still clear enough to catch pieces.

“…weird, right?” Harper’s voice says, casual but sharp.

There’s a small pause.

“You think she’s lying about who she is?” Harper asks.

Another pause.

“I think,” Luca says slowly, “something’s wrong.”

Wrong.

The word hits harder than I expect, burrowing deep into my chest.

I grit my teeth, leaning closer—

BZZT.

My phone buzzes violently in my pocket, making me jolt and almost slam my forehead into the damn vent.

I fumble it out with shaking fingers.

Two new messages.

Luca:
Are you home?

Harper:
You hiding from us, Maple Leaf?

I stare at the screen, my heart practically doing cartwheels in my chest.

Shit.

They know.

Maybe not everything.

But enough.

And they’re not leaving.

I make it halfway down the stairs when I hear them.

Their voices cut through the quiet like knives.

“…thought I heard something up there,” Harper says.

I freeze.

Too late.

“Elisa?” Luca calls, his voice more curious than angry. “You up there?”

I glance back at the stairs behind me like maybe—maybe—I could run again.
But no.

That’s done.

I swallow hard, force one foot to move, then the other. The stairwell is narrow, and suddenly every inch of it feels like a stage.

I round the last corner and see them.

Standing just inside the building, the front door still swinging slowly behind them.

Luca’s arms are crossed, but his expression is softer than I expected—confused, yeah, but not mad.

Harper?

She’s harder to read.

Her brow’s furrowed, arms at her sides.

I stop two steps from the bottom, hands clenched at my sides, heart pounding so loud I can feel it in my throat.

“Hey,” I say, voice small.

Too small.

They both look up.

Luca blinks.

Harper tilts her head, one brow lifting.

“You hiding from us, Maple Leaf?” she asks again, quieter this time.

I let out a shaky breath.

“Kind of,” I admit.

There’s a long pause.

“Okay,” Harper says finally. “So… what’s going on?”

I stand there for a moment, eyes flicking between the two of them. Harper’s arms are still at her sides, but there’s a tension in her shoulders—like she’s not sure whether to push or back off. Luca looks like he’s trying to read my mind and getting more concerned by the second.

No escape.

No lies.

I swallow again and manage, “We should probably… talk. In my place.”

Harper raises an eyebrow. “Not afraid we’ll uncover your collection of memorabilia?”

I try to laugh. It comes out thin, almost hollow. “You wish.”

Luca doesn’t say anything. He just nods once.

I turn, wordlessly unlocking the apartment door and pushing it open. My hands feel too stiff, too slow. My heart’s pounding again, not like before when I was swinging through the sky—

This is worse.

They follow me in, the door clicking shut behind them like the end of a countdown.

I move to the center of the room and turn, standing awkwardly as they settle in. Harper doesn’t sit—she leans against the wall, arms crossed again. Luca perches on the arm of the couch, still watching me like I might break if he says the wrong thing.

“So…” Harper says after a beat, her voice more cautious now.

“Here we are. Truth time?”

I nod slowly, my mouth dry.

“I—I don’t really know how to say it. Or where to start.”

“Anywhere’s good,” Luca says gently. “We’re listening.”

I exhale slowly, forcing myself not to break eye contact. My fingers twitch at my sides.

“Well…” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper, “what exactly do you know?”

Luca doesn’t hesitate. His voice is quiet, steady. Not accusing. Just… sure.

“We know you’re probably Arin.”

Harper lifts a hand halfway, like she’s about to throw in a maybe—but then she looks at me.

Really looks.

And she lowers it.

“Maybe,” she says. But there’s no weight behind the word.

“No,” Luca says again, firmer now. “We’re pretty sure.”

I nod slowly. My stomach’s turning inside out.

I glance at Harper—who’s watching me like a puzzle she’s finally starting to put together—and then back to Luca.

Their faces are different.
But they’re the same in the ways that matter curious, wounded by what they think I didn’t trust them with.

I lick my lips, my mouth dry.

“I didn’t mean to lie,” I say.

“I didn’t even know how to tell anyone. Or if I should.”

I pause.

“And yeah… you’re right.”

I take a deep breath.

“I’m Arin.”

“How?” Luca asks, eyes narrowing just a bit. “Like… I felt like you were, but… well—” He gestures vaguely, helplessly, at me.

“People don’t just change in two days. Especially not like that. Not since I saw you last.”

I cross my arms, trying to steady my breathing, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

“Yeah, well…” I mutter, “for starters, I didn’t choose this.”

They both go quiet.

“I need you both to not freak out,” I add quickly. “Please.”

Luca raises an eyebrow. “You mean this wasn’t the freak-out part?”

Harper elbows him lightly. “He means if we were going to freak out, we already would have.”

I pause. Blink at them.

Luca shrugs. “Look, it’s weird. It’s definitely a shock. But… Whatever this is it’s probably fine.”

“And I don’t scare easy,” Harper adds, arms crossed tight. “So… just tell us what happened.”

I sigh, the weight of it pulling my shoulders down as I slowly lower myself onto the couch across from them.

“Okay,” I say quietly, rubbing my palms against my knees.

“I was walking home from work. Like, two nights ago.”

Harper and Luca are dead quiet now, watching me like they’re afraid even breathing too loud will stop me.

“And I heard this noise. This… hum. Low, weird.”

“So I followed it. Stupid, right? Typical horror movie decision.”

“And I ended up behind this biotech lab. Alchemax.”

I see Harper’s eyebrows twitch, like she recognizes the name.

“There was this… container. Cracked open. Sparking. And there was this—thing inside. Black and red. Almost like…” I search for the word, something that fits, “…webbing… or goo. But alive. It moved.”

I can feel my heart starting to pound again, just like it had that night.

“It lashed out. Got on me. Got in me. I didn’t know what it was. I just—”

I swallow hard.

“And next thing I knew, I was on the ground. Screaming. Changing. Everything hurt. Everything was wrong.”

I pause.

“My body wasn’t my body anymore.”

Harper’s lips part slightly.

Luca looks like he wants to say something but can’t form the words.

“It turned me into… this.”

I look down at myself.

“Into Elisa.”

…

“Well,” I add quickly, eyes flicking to Luca, “I technically picked the name.”

Harper raises a brow.

Luca looks confused.

“I was panicking, and I needed to make up a cover story. I didn’t think I’d still be using it days later…”

Luca huffs out a laugh, but it’s more bewildered than amused.

Then his eyes narrow just slightly.

“What do you mean… inside you?” he asks. “You said it got in you. What does that mean?”

I bite my lip, bracing myself for the part that’s even harder to say out loud.

“Well… it didn’t just stick to me or whatever. It bonded with me. Like… connected. On a whole other level.”

I tap my chest.

“It’s in me. I can feel it. It talks to me sometimes. It made me stronger.”

Harper straightens slightly, expression darkening with something cautious.

Luca’s eyes widen. “You mean like… like Venom? One of those things?”

I nod slowly.

“I didn’t know what it was. Not really. But yeah. I think it’s a symbiote.”

Another pause.

“Except this one turned me into… a girl for some reason.”

Luca stares, visibly trying to wrap his head around that part. Harper just exhales, arms crossed again, brows furrowed.

“You’re serious,” she says, quietly.

“Yeah,” I say.

“I wish I wasn’t.”

The silence stretches a beat too long—thick enough to choke on—before Luca finally speaks.

“Did you call the police?”

His voice isn’t sharp, but it’s laced with something—caution, maybe. Concern.

I shake my head, fast. “No. We—” I glance between them. “Think—me, my mom, and a friend of hers who’s helping us—we think Alchemax is trying to get the symbiote back.”

Harper stiffens slightly at the name again.

“And that would mean…” I pause, pressing my hands together. “That would mean me with it. So, no, we can’t go to the police.”

Luca frowns. “Why not? They might be able to—”

“Because Alchemax probably owns half the precinct,” I cut in. “Or has eyes on anyone who so much as searches the word symbiote. Probably shouldn’t have looked anything…” I fade out a little thinking for moment. “If I tell the wrong person—if either of you do—they’ll come for me. Study me. Lock me up. Maybe worse.”

That hangs in the air for a moment.

I take a breath and say it firmly—because this matters more than anything.

“I need you both not to talk about this to anyone. Please. No one.”

Harper meets my eyes, and there’s something serious there—no sarcasm, no teasing.

Luca nods slowly, jaw tight.

“We won’t,” he says.

“You’re safe with us.”

Harper adds, “But if anything goes sideways? You tell us. Immediately.”

“I will,” I whisper. “I promise.”

“So you, like, have superpowers now?” Luca says, his tone shifting—suddenly almost excited, like we’ve skipped past panic and landed squarely in comic book territory.

I blink at him.

“Uh… yeah, I guess. But I can’t really do anything with them right now. I’m not supposed to, actually.”

He tilts his head. “So you aren’t gonna be a superhero?”

I open my mouth, start to say well—

And then Harper cuts in, eyes lit with something way too close to mischief.

“Can we see it?”

I freeze.

“What now?”

Harper shrugs like she’s asking me to show off a new hoodie, not summon a potentially unstable alien lifeform that lives under my skin.

“You already told us. I want to see what it looks like.”

“I—” I glance at Luca, expecting him to laugh, to roll his eyes.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he leans forward, just a little. “I mean… I kinda do too. You said it bonded with you, right?”

I stare at them.

“Guys, this isn’t like showing off a parlor trick. It’s dangerous. If I lose control—”

“But you won’t,” Harper says, casually confident in that Harper Temple kind of way. “You already said it listens to you.”

I look between the two of them. Two people who now know the truth. Two people who, somehow, still aren’t running for the door.

I feel the symbiote stir beneath my skin.

Listening.

Waiting.

“We can show them,” it murmurs.

“I… I’ll try,” I say quietly. “But just for a second.”

I take a step back into the middle of the room, breathing hard through my nose as my heart pounds so loud it’s almost painful.

I exhale.

“Okay,” I whisper.

And I let go.

The transformation is instant.

It doesn’t crawl—it erupts.

Black and crimson slicks outward from my chest like wildfire. Tendrils slither across my arms, my legs, curling up my neck and over my jaw. My clothes vanish beneath it, consumed and replaced by the suit’s living mass as it tightens, forming that glossy, alien skin—armor? Whatever.

In a second, I’m not Arin. Not Elisa.

I’m something else.

The eyes form last—sharp, bright white against the red of the mask.

Luca stumbles back a step, mouth parted. Harper lets out a low whistle, arms still crossed, but I can see the flicker of awe in her eyes.

I stand there, breathing slowly.

The room is dead silent for a moment.

“Whoa,” Luca breathes. “You look… kind of terrifying. In a good way. Like a cool way.”

Harper tilts her head, smirking. “You definitely don’t look like some knock-off Spider-Man.”

My voice sounds deeper, distorted through the mask. “This is me now.”

“This is us,” the symbiote murmurs.

“So…” Luca says, his voice cautious, but laced with curiosity, “what can you do?”

I hesitate.

“I… I don’t really know,” I admit, glancing down at my gloved, alien hands as they twitch slightly with the symbiote’s restless energy.

“I know I’m stronger. Like—a lot stronger. And fast. I can jump… like, really far. And…”

My mind flashes back— To the way I screamed, flailing like a ragdoll, praying not to die as the symbiote did all the work.

“…and it swings,” I say after a pause. “With those… tendrils or webs?”

Harper’s eyebrows shoot up. “Like Spider-Man?”

“Yeah,” I mutter through the mask. “But with no skill.”

Luca grins. “So you’re a symbiote-powered… girl… and you have no idea how it works?”

“Pretty much.”

Harper smirks. “That tracks.”

The tension in the room lightens—just enough to breathe again.

But inside, I can still feel it pulsing—raw power, quiet and patient—under my skin.

I don’t know what this thing’s full potential is.

And that… might be the scariest part.

With one last breath, I whisper, “Okay… that’s enough.”

The symbiote doesn’t fight me.

It pulls back—quiet, smooth, almost gentle.

The black and red suit peels off my skin like mist dissolving into the air, retreating under the surface with a whisper of motion.

My normal clothes are back, the air feels cold against my face again, and just like that—I’m me again…

More or less.

“Awwweee,” Luca groans, leaning back dramatically on the couch.

“Come on! I was just getting used to my new terrifying alien friend!”

I shoot him a look. “You guys aren’t nearly as terrified as me,” I say, dropping into the chair like my legs just gave up.

“You don’t look too terrified,” Harper says, giving me that sharp, unreadable look again.

“I’m just very good at hiding a constant, high-level panic attack,” I deadpan.

That gets a laugh from both of them.

“So…” Harper says, tilting her head. “You don’t want to keep it?”

I blink at her, stunned. “No. Not at all. I want to go back to being me again.”

Luca raises a hand like he’s calling dibs on the last piece of food. “I mean—I’ll take it.”

I shoot him a flat look.

“Yeah, I wish it was that easy. But…”

I trail off for a second, fingers gripping the edge of my chair. “I don’t know how much I can trust it, but it says we’re… permanently bonded now.”

“…Permanent?!” Harper and Luca say at the same time.

“Jeez,” Luca adds, sitting up straighter, brows raised. “Like—forever-forever?”

I nod once. “Unless one of us dies. And even that might not work since one would have to somehow survive.”

They both stare.

“Okay, well…” Harper says slowly, running a hand through her hair. “That definitely wasn’t in the brochure.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, rubbing my temples. “Tell me about it.”

“Guess you’re stuck being awesome forever,” Luca says, trying for a grin.

I shake my head. “It doesn’t feel awesome.”

“Especially not,” I mutter, voice low, eyes fixed on the floor, “being a girl too.”

Harper’s smile drops for the first time in a while. Not in a judgmental way—just… softer.

“Being a girl’s not bad,” she says gently.

I look up at her, eyes tight. “Well, maybe if you wanted to be one.”

That lands. She nods slowly. Doesn’t push. Doesn’t try to correct me.

Just lets the silence stretch.

Then, mercifully, Luca cuts in, his voice more cautious now. “You mentioned your mom’s friend? What’s up with that?”

I blink, pulling myself back from the edge of that thought.

“Yeah. Her name’s Claire. She’s… not a superhero, but she’s helped people like me before. Mutants, people who got changed by weird stuff—accidents, powers. All of it.”

Luca whistles low. “So, like, a support for superhuman weirdness?”

“Pretty much,” I say. “She’s trying to get in touch with someone who might know more about the symbiote—what it did to me, if it can be separated.”

“But no word yet?” Harper asks.

I shake my head. “Not yet.”

And even though I try to hide it, they both see the fear behind my eyes when I say that.

“We should, like… go to an old warehouse,” Harper says suddenly as if trying to distract me.

I blink. “What? Why would we do that?”

She shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t you want to test it out? See what you can do? How strong it is?”

Luca leans forward, nodding a little too eagerly. “Yeah, honestly, that’s not the worst idea. You don’t know the limits of it yet, and it’s probably safer to figure that out somewhere abandoned than in, like… a school hallway.”

I stare at both of them, mouth parting.

“You guys want to take me—currently bonded to a sentient alien organism—to a sketchy warehouse to see what happens?”

Harper grins. “Uh, yeah. Science, Elisa. Trial and error.”

“You’re not a scientist.”

“I passed chemistry once.”

Luca laughs, clearly on board.

I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “This is a terrible idea.”

“But…” Harper says, eyes narrowing playfully, “You’re gonna do it anyway, aren’t you?”

I hesitate.

“…Maybe.”

“I don’t know,” I mutter, glancing toward the window like my mom’s watching from three buildings away with x-ray vision. “My mom probably wouldn’t like it.”

Harper shrugs without missing a beat.
“She doesn’t necessarily need to know though.”

I stare at her.

“You’re encouraging me to lie to the one person who hasn’t completely lost it over all this?”

“I’m encouraging you to understand the thing inside you before it goes haywire in a grocery store aisle,” she counters, deadpan.

Luca lifts a hand. “I’d just like to point out I’m not involved in this discussion and therefore absolved of any guilt.”

“Helpful,” I mutter.

But Harper’s words stick in my mind.

She’s not wrong.

I don’t know what I’m capable of yet. Not really.

And if I don’t test it… something worse could happen.

Something uncontrolled.

But still…

“I’m not promising anything,” I say, leveling a finger at them both. “But if we do this, it’s quiet. Low-key. No recording TikToks, nothing public.”

Harper salutes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

I narrow my eyes at Harper. “Do you even know where an abandoned warehouse is?”

She grins. That slow, smug Harper grin that’s never not a bad sign.

“That seems like a yes,” Luca mutters beside me, already sounding halfway amused and halfway concerned for his future safety.

Harper whips out her phone and starts scrolling like she’s pulling up a takeout menu. “My brother used to tag half the city back in his rebel phase. I know all the best condemned spots. And the least likely to collapse on us.” She pauses. “Mostly.”

I blink at her. “…That’s reassuring.”

She jabs her finger against a spot on the screen. “This one’s in Red Hook. Nobody goes near it since the incident with the raccoons. Don’t ask.”

I open my mouth. Then close it. “…I wasn’t going to.”

“Let’s go then!” Luca says, already standing like we’re about to hit a concert instead of break into a condemned building with an alien bonded to me.

I wave a hand at him. “I gotta wait till my mom gets up for work.”

“Why? You’re gonna tell her?” Harper asks, half-shocked, half-impressed.

“No,” I say flatly. “I’m just gonna wait till she leaves.”

Luca snorts. “Wow. You’re such a rebel now.”

I shoot him a glare. “Shut up or I’m gonna change my mind.”

Harper grins wider. Luca raises his hands in surrender. And somehow… this stupid idea actually starts to feel like something I want to do.

Not just to test the symbiote.

Not just because it’s reckless.

But because—for the first time since all of this started—I won’t be doing it alone.

The apartment gets quieter as the sun goes down, shadows stretching long across the floor, light dimming into that soft, hazy blue that always makes the city feel… still.

I hear my mom rustling in her room—getting ready for another night shift.

She steps out a minute later, dressed in her scrubs, tying her hair back with one hand, looking tired but holding herself together like always.

She glances over at me on the couch. “You okay?”

I nod a little too quickly. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

She gives me a long look. That mom look. The one that says she knows I’m lying but isn’t sure how deep it goes.

“Well,” she says, walking over, “I left some food in the fridge. Don’t stay up too late. You’ve had enough stress for ten people already this week.”

“I won’t,” I say, forcing a small smile.

She leans down, kisses the top of my head.

Then she hesitates.

Fingers brushing my hair.

“I’m proud of you, Ar—Elisa.”

My chest tightens.

“I love you,” she says quietly.

“Love you too.”

And then she’s gone.

The door shuts softly behind her.

Ten minutes later, I’m on the rooftop again. Hoodie zipped, backpack slung over one shoulder. My heart hammering a little too fast.

Harper and Luca are already waiting by the edge, flashlights in hand, both dressed like they’re expecting to sneak into Area 51.

“Took you long enough,” Harper whispers with a grin.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Luca adds, eyebrows raised.

I exhale, stepping forward to join them.

“No,” I say honestly.

“But let’s do it anyway.”

“So,” Luca says as we walk toward the roof access door, “are you gonna carry us there? Swing across the city like some off-brand Spider-Girl?”

I stop dead, giving him a look.

“No way. I nearly broke my neck last time just carrying myself.”

Luca sighs dramatically. “Bummer. I was kind of hoping to live out my superhero travel montage dreams.”

“Yeah, well, those dreams involve you faceplanting into a billboard if I miss.”

“Subway it is,” Harper declares, already headed for the stairwell.

We follow her down, Luca mumbling something about “lame public transportation ruining the vibe,” but he’s grinning all the same.

The subway rattles beneath us, humming like a restless beast. The lights overhead flicker every few seconds, casting Harper and Luca’s faces in flashes of dim yellow and shadow.

We sit in a near-empty late-night car, the kind that smells vaguely of metal, dust, and too many stories.

Luca glances over from the opposite seat, his voice quieter than usual. “So… what do we call you now? I mean, outside of school at least.”

“Uh… I mean, I’d prefer Arin,” I say slowly, “but… I’ve gotta get used to hearing Elisa. And… that being me.”

Harper doesn’t say anything. She’s watching out the window, reflection rippling in the dirty glass.

Luca nods, thoughtful.

“Alright,” he says, sitting back with a shrug.
“I guess it’s Elisa for now, then.”

He doesn’t flinch when he says it.

Doesn’t hesitate.

And even though it hits like a rock in my chest…

It doesn’t hurt.

Not the way I thought it would.

I glance at Harper, waiting for a snide comment, a smirk—something.

Instead, she just nudges my knee with hers and says, “You pick the name, we’ll make sure it sticks.”

Eventually we reach Red Hook and it’s quiet.

The kind of quiet that wraps around your shoulders like a damp, uneasy coat. Most of the buildings here look abandoned, their windows either boarded up or broken, graffiti marking every inch of available wall. The warehouse Harper picked is a hulking shadow of rusted metal and shattered glass, slouched against the sky like it gave up trying years ago.

We climb the rust-bitten fence behind it, shoes scraping against the chain link. Harper’s already halfway over before I even think to question how often she does this.

“This is a crime,” I mutter as I drop down onto cracked concrete.

“Technically,” Harper replies, already pulling out a flashlight. “But it’s also very educational.”

Luca follows, backpack slung over one shoulder. “You guys think we should maybe hang out somewhere normal? Like, a movie theater?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Harper grins.

I roll my eyes but can’t help the twitch of a smile. The warehouse looms ahead, empty windows like hollow eyes. We slip in through a side door that’s barely hanging on its hinges, stepping into a wide, echoing chamber of dust and metal and darkness.

Everything feels… still.

Too still.

“This place gives me horror movie vibes,” Luca says, voice low.

“You’re not wrong,” I mutter.

Then Harper turns to me, flashlight casting a circle of light against my chest. “Alright. Let’s see what you can really do.”

The suit comes alive with a whisper—liquid shadow spreading from my spine, chest and shoulders, slick tendrils crawling over my arms, legs. In seconds, I’m covered. The cool, close pressure of it settles over me like a second skin.

Harper lets out a quiet, impressed, “Damn.”

Luca scribbles something in his notebook like we’re in a lab instead of a crime scene.

I walk across the warehouse floor, boots clicking on the cracked cement, until I reach a huge busted concrete pipe. It’s at least half my height, chunks missing along one edge, but it’s still a monster of a thing.

I stare at it, flexing my hands once.

This might be too heavy, I think.

“It’s not,” the symbiote replies without hesitation.

“Okay, yeah, I keep forgetting you’re in my head,” I mutter.

Harper calls out from behind, “Are you arguing with your suit?”

“Maybe.”

I grip the cylinder with both hands, expecting strain—at least some weight.
Instead…

It lifts.

Like I’m picking up a chair.

“Whoa,” I breathe, holding it chest-height.

I twist slightly, feeling how the suit shifts around my core and shoulders, keeping balance with no effort at all.

“How much can we lift?” I think.

“More,” it murmurs again inside my head.
Its voice is like a whisper wrapped in static.

“Yeah, I got that,” I mutter under my breath.

Luca whistles low from the side. “That doesn’t even look heavy. Are you sure you’re not, like, metal inside now?”

“You want me to throw it at you and find out?”

“We should throw it at something,” the voice says cheerfully. “Something that breaks. Splinters. Screams, maybe.”

My grip tightens on the concrete before I consciously mean to.

“Okay, no. None of that.”

“Why not? You’re strong now. Why be small again? Why be prey?”

“Because that’s not what we do,” I snap under my breath.

Luca tilts his head. “You okay?”

I nod too quickly. “Yeah. Just… focusing.”

I eye a rusted support beam across the warehouse.

I rear back and hurl the chunk of cement. It flies across the air with a shriek of displaced wind and slams into the beam with enough force to send an echo through the whole building.

Harper whistles. “Okay, that was kind of hot.”

Luca writes something down. “That’s, like, a small motorcycle in terms of mass and distance. Not that I know how physics works.”

I shake out my arms.

And then I feel it again.

That stirring.

“What else can we break? What if we made the building fall down? Just the top part. You could do it.”

I grit my teeth. “I’m not here to destroy things.”

I rub the side of my head, pacing slowly in a circle near the shattered pipe fragments.

“Would destroying the building not be the perfect test?” it asks, voice light. Too light.

“It’s already abandoned. No one will care. You could bring the whole thing down. Feel what you’re really capable of.”

The suggestion slithers through my thoughts, sugar-coated and too reasonable.

I stop walking. “Yeah,” I mutter, low. “And then what? Get caught on camera? Let someone find the rubble and track the girl-shaped crater back to me?”

“We could bury them,” it offers.

“No,” I hiss.

“But we want to know, don’t we? How strong we are? What the limit is? We could grow bigger. Crack the ceiling. Crush the whole frame. No one would stop us.”

“They couldn’t.”

My heart hammers harder than it should.

“Elisa?” Harper calls from across the room, brow furrowing. “You zoning out again?”

Luca’s watching me too. Concerned now.

I shake my head. “No. Just thinking.”

“Lying,” the voice chimes, sing-song.

I clench my jaw.

“No leveling buildings,” I mutter under my breath. “End of discussion.”

“But what if one day, we have to?”

I exhale sharply, letting the tension roll off my shoulders just enough to turn back toward the others.

“What now, guys?” I say aloud, trying to sound casual, like I’m not having a mental battle with something that thinks collapsing a building is a learning experience.

Harper shrugs, still leaning against a rusted support beam like this is all just another Friday night.

“Don’t look at me. You’re the one with the built-in wrecking crew.”

“I’m just writing down ‘can lift small car, probably also throw Luca,’” Luca adds helpfully, scribbling in his notebook.

I sigh and turn my attention inward.

“And why the hell are you talking so much lately?” I think. “You’d been barely saying anything till recently.”

There’s a pause.

Then, with actual offense in its voice, it replies.

“You kept telling me to shut up.”

I blink.

Oh my god.

“Every time I tried to speak, you panicked. Screamed. That’s not very welcoming behavior.”

“You transformed my body and whispered things like ‘we are one’ creepily.” I think back.

“We are one,” it says, less sinister, more matter-of-fact.

“I didn’t know what else to say. I’m new at this. Communication is… hard.”

“Okay,” I mutter under my breath, “we’re gonna work on tone.”

“Good! I’ve been thinking we should talk more anyway. You’re very emotional. It’s fascinating.”

Harper raises a brow. “You talking to your murder-suit again?”

I throw her a look. “It’s not a—Okay, that’s… not totally wrong.”

I glance over at Luca, still holding his notebook like he’s going to grade me after all this.

“Can you show the swinging?” he asks, eyes wide with that annoyingly hopeful expression he gets when he’s way too excited about something clearly dangerous.

I groan, already regretting coming here.

“I barely figured it out last time. I looked like a flying mannequin having a panic attack.”

“Exactly,” Harper says with a grin. “So let’s see how much worse it can get.”

“You’re both the worst,” I mutter, stepping back toward the open area in the warehouse.

“We can do it better this time,” it says with genuine enthusiasm.

Luca and Harper retreat to the far wall as I jog toward the rusted catwalk structure. High beams stretch across the ceiling like an obstacle course just waiting to be abused.

I leap.

Midair, my arm snaps forward, and from my wrist, the thick black tendril fires—thwip—latching to a steel beam with a sharp, wet crack.

My body yanks forward instantly—harder than expected.

“Woooo!” the symbiote shouts inside my head with unfiltered joy.

“NOT HELPING,” I scream, legs flailing as I swing across the space like a wrecking ball that never learned physics.

I release, spin through the air, and barely manage to fire another webbing strand before I faceplant into a wall.

This one hits cleaner, smoother—and suddenly I’m gliding, catching speed.

I twist midair and release again, launching into a full arc across the room before landing on the side of a pillar, sticking to it.

Harper claps once. “Okay, that was sick.”

Luca’s writing furiously. “I think I peed a little.”

I cling to the wall, panting.

“That… wasn’t completely awful,” I admit.

“Told you,” the symbiote says smugly. “Next time, let’s try a skyscraper.”

“No.”

“Okay,” I say aloud, still perched halfway up a pillar. “What’s next?”

The voice is eager. Almost chirpy.

“We could use the camouflage.”

I blink.

The what? I think, confused.

“Camouflage,” it repeats, with too much delight. “I can blend. With walls. Clothes. Shadows. Even mimic people if you want.”

“What the hell?! Since when can you do that?”

“Always. You just never asked.”

“You’re full of surprises,” I mutter.

“Yes,” it says proudly. “I also regenerate, can create bladed weapons from our body, and heal illnesses. Would you like a list? I’ve can compile one.”

“Uh… Elisa?” Harper calls up. “You having a moment up there or are you gonna tell us what your goo suit is doing next?”

“Apparently,” I say, sliding down the wall with a dry huff, “we’re trying camouflage.”

Harper’s grin sharpens. “Oh, I like that.”

Luca lowers his notebook. “Like invisibility? Do it. Do it. Do it.”

I step into a dim corner of the warehouse and close my eyes, focusing.

“Okay,” I whisper. “Camouflage. Go.”

The suit shifts in real-time, mimicking the dusty metal walls behind me so perfectly that looking down I can’t even see myself.

Harper stares. “Holy crap.”

Luca gapes. “You’re like horror movie level now.”

“Boo,” I whisper into Harper’s ear.

She jumps.

I grin.

“Okay, that one’s pretty nice.”

I let the camouflage fade, the shimmer peeling back into the usual sleek black-and-red suit as I step out of the shadows.

“We can’t use it if you go too fast,” the voice says matter-of-factly. “Movement gives it away. They’ll see the blur.”

“Got it,” I mutter. “Stealth walk only. Like a haunted Roomba.”

“Yes,” it agrees cheerfully. “But sharper. Hungrier.”

Harper fans herself with a clipboard. “So, uh. Do not sneak up on me like that again. Or I’m hitting you with whatever’s closest.”

“Okay,” I say aloud. “Camouflage works—but it’s only useful if I’m moving slow. So maybe not great in a fight.”

“Unless we get creative,” the voice offers. “Ambush. Lurk. Strike from above. Like a predator. Like the hunter in the dark—”

“Let’s not finish that sentence,” I interrupt.

I flex my fingers once, twice… then hold out my arm and focus.

“Let’s try morphing,” I think.

The symbiote stirs instantly—eager.

“Yes,” it whispers. “Shape. Blade. Strike.”

I narrow my eyes. “Not strike. Just shape.”

“…Strike later?”

“Focus.”

My arm twitches—then shifts. The black and red surface peels, stretches, elongates. It hardens, warps, and suddenly there’s weight pulling forward from my wrist. My breath catches.

A long, curved blade extends from my forearm, jagged near the base and sharp enough at the end that even I flinch.

Luca gasps.

“Dude,” he whispers. “You’re like… a walking weapon.”

Harper raises an eyebrow. “Okay, that’s terrifying. I love it.”

I rotate my arm, the blade cutting through the air with a faint whistle.

It doesn’t feel foreign. It doesn’t feel like I’m holding something.

It feels like it’s me.

That’s maybe the most unsettling part.

“More,” the symbiote murmurs. “Let’s try spikes. Spikes are fun.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I mutter.

Something flies through the air.

Before I even register it, my body moves—instinct taking over. My arm lashes out with a sharp shhhk, the blade arcing forward in a blur of black.

CRACK.

The object shatters in midair—splintering into pieces that rain down around me in a dull clatter.

A piece of broken wood spins across the floor.

I stand there, still in a half-crouch, blade extended, breath caught in my chest.

“…What the hell,” I hiss, turning toward Harper.

She’s holding up both hands, grinning like a cat that just knocked something off the counter.

“What? I’m testing your reflexes. You passed.”

“You threw a board at my face!”

Luca squints at the debris. “That was part of a pallet. And I think she flipped it first.”

“Who even carries a wooden plank?!”

Harper shrugs, not even pretending to be sorry. “You want to know what you can do or not?”

I slowly retract the blade, the suit folding it back into my arm like it was never there. My hands are still trembling—just a little.

“We felt the danger,” the symbiote says, almost pleased. “We cut it down. Quick. Clean. You liked it, didn’t you?”

“Not the point,” I think back sharply.

“Then why are you smiling?”

I press my lips into a flat line.

I hadn’t even noticed.

“I think that’s enough for today,” I say, exhaling slowly. My muscles ache—not from fatigue, but from tension. Like my whole body’s been clenching without realizing it.

“We can push it further though,” it whispers. “There’s more. We haven’t tested claws. Or spikes.”

“I’m good,” I mutter, taking a step back.

The voice sulks, curling at the edges of my mind. “No fun.”

Luca, ever the devil on the shoulder, throws his arms up. “Aww, come on! You just got cool! You can’t end on ‘maybe next time.’”

“Luca,” I say dryly, “I sliced a pallet in half with my arm. If we go further, I might bring the roof down.”

He looks at the beams above and nods. “Fair. Still—kinda want to see that.”

“I don’t,” I shoot back, already walking toward the exit.

“I do,” the symbiote murmurs helpfully.

Harper finally pushes off the wall, falling into step beside me. “Well. You didn’t explode or kill anyone. That’s basically a win.”

“High bar,” I mutter, but I manage a faint smile.

Luca trails behind, still jotting notes in his damn book.

The wind picks up outside as we step out of the warehouse, the rusted door creaking shut behind us with a low groan like it’s relieved to be left alone again.

Streetlights flicker dimly across the empty Red Hook stretch, and everything feels colder now, quieter. The kind of stillness that sets in after you’ve seen something you can’t unsee.

I shove my hands into the hoodie’s pockets, the symbiote coiling tighter around me like it knows the adrenaline’s fading and something more raw is seeping in.

“We should all go home,” I say quietly. “It’s late.”

Harper yawns like she wasn’t the one who threw a plank at my head fifteen minutes ago. “Fine, Mom.”

“I am the one bonded to a biological nightmare,” I mutter.

“Nightmare is a bit harsh,” it replies, sounding almost hurt.

Luca stretches his arms behind his head, clearly satisfied. “Fine. We’ll call it a night. But next time, we’re testing climbing a building. Or seeing if you can land a flip off a moving train.”

“Next time, I’m bringing noise-canceling headphones,” I mutter.

They laugh, and for a moment, it almost feels normal.

Almost…

Not long later I’m alone on the apartment roof.

The city almost glows with light. The wind brushes against my face, tugging gently at my hair as I sit cross-legged on the rooftop, arms wrapped around my knees.

It’s quiet up here.

Safe.

I close my eyes, listening to the hum inside me. Not just the buzz of streetlights or the distant thrum of traffic.

The other hum.

The one that’s always there now. Breathing beneath my skin.

It.

“Can I ask you something?” I whisper into the dark.

“Yes.”

My chest tightens a little. I exhale slow.

“Before… when I first found you, you wouldn’t tell me what they did to you. What they were trying to do at Alchemax. But I need to know.”

A longer pause this time. The kind that stretches like it might snap.

“They wanted control.”

I glance down, my voice barely audible now. “Of… you?”

The answer is immediate. “Of all symbiotes. To make more. Without voices. Without will. Soldiers. Pets. Weapons in cages.”

A cold breath slides down my spine.

I look out over the edge of the building.

“They were trying to manufacture symbiotes,” I murmur. “Like some kind of—mass production? No independence?”

“No freedom,” it says, quieter now. “No me.”

“Guess we have more in common than I thought,” I say softly.

It doesn’t answer right away.

“You kept me from the cage. Even if you didn’t want to.”

I nod once.

“You’re free now.”

“You don’t want me.”

I freeze.

My breath catches in my throat, held there like a secret I haven’t dared say out loud. The night suddenly feels colder. Heavier.

The city stretches in front of me, but I can’t see it anymore. Not really.

“…”

I don’t know how to respond to that.

Because it’s right.

I swallow hard, pressing my fingertips into the rooftop gravel.

“I didn’t ask for this,” I whisper.

“I know.”

“I didn’t want to change. I didn’t want to lose everything. My body. My name. My life.”

Silence stretches between us.

Not cold. Not angry.

Just… still.

Like a breath held in the dark.

“Would you get rid of me,” it asks quietly, “if you could?”

And that—
That hurts more than I expect.

Because I don’t know.

I should. I want to. But…

I close my eyes. “I don’t know.”

“I mean…” I start, my voice hoarse, dry from the wind and the weight of everything.

“That’s the goal, right? To go back to normal. Or at the very least…” I glance down at my hands—still steady, still shaped the same, but not.

“…To look like me again.”

There’s a long silence.

Not the offended kind.

Not even the sad kind.

Just… the kind that makes you feel like something is listening.

“You don’t like this body.”

It’s not a question.

I shake my head slowly, not trusting my voice. “I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t choose it.”

“But it’s strong. We made it strong. We made it strong.”

“I know,” I murmur.

Another pause.

“But it’s not you.”

That lands like a punch in the ribs. Because yeah. It isn’t.

It never has been.

“I don’t even know if I remember what I’m supposed to look like anymore,” I admit, voice barely above a breath.

The wind moves through my hair, pulling at it. Blonde strands where there used to be something darker. Smaller. Simpler.

Me.

“I didn’t mean to take that from you,” it says.

“I didn’t know I could. I didn’t mean to make you… different.”

I press the heel of my palm to my eye.

“I know,” I whisper.

And I do.

But it doesn’t make it easier.

The wind pulls at my hoodie, and I tighten it around myself as if I’m cold. But it’s not the air that’s making me shiver.

It’s the question I haven’t let myself ask until now.

“You said before,” I murmur, staring at the lights of the city like they might give me courage. “That the changes to my body—they were either from what I wanted… or from your last host.”

The silence that follows isn’t just quiet.

It’s heavy. Like it’s thinking.

Processing.

“Yes.”

Soft.

Hesitant.

“Which was it?” I press. “Because I need to know. I need to know why I’m like this.”

Another pause.

“I… don’t know.”

I blink. “What?”

“It was chaos. Pain. We were scared. Alone. You were scared too. And your body—your self—it was…”

It struggles for the word.

“Unstable. Shifting. So we adapted. We tried to become what would survive the merging. But some of it… some of it felt familiar.”

My throat tightens.

“From your host?”

“Yes.”

“Your last… host,” I say quietly, slowly. “You said they weren’t here anymore.”

“Yes.”

The word drops into the silence like a stone into water.

“…Did they—was it Alchemax?”

Another beat.

“Yes.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, blinking fast. My voice is barely audible now. “Why?”

“After they tested us together, they wanted to test me… without her.”

I feel sick.

The wind’s gone still.

It’s just me, the rooftop, and a living thing inside me trying to explain how someone died for science.

For curiosity.

“I…” My throat tightens. “I’m sorry.”

For a second, I don’t hear anything.

“We didn’t understand what death meant.”

And somehow, that makes it worse.

“We were angry. When we discovered it was happening so we tried to escape but... Then we were alone.”

I hug my arms around my knees, curling in slightly. “That’s not gonna happen again. I won’t let it.”

“…You promise?”

I don’t speak.

I just nod.

Because I mean it.

Even if I still don’t know how to live like this—

I won’t let anyone take it apart again.

I look out over the city—this massive, glowing thing that never sleeps, never stops. I can see everything from up here, but somehow, it all feels impossibly far away.

Even me.

My fingers dig into my sleeves.

“Even if…” I start, and my voice cracks a little. I swallow. Try again.

“Even if we don’t stay together. Even if I find some way to get you out of me… I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The silence that follows is so complete, it almost feels like he’s gone.

But I can feel him.

Still there. Still listening.

“I won’t let them take you back to that place,” I whisper. “Not ever.”

And then—so softly I almost miss it:

“…Thank you.”

And for the first time, the weight inside my chest doesn’t feel like a threat.

It feels like trust.

Elsewhere — Unknown Facility, Late Night

The hum of machines fills the dark, sterile room—steady, mechanical, unfeeling.

Dozens of screens line the walls, casting flickering blue light onto white tiles and gleaming instruments. Every screen displays the same figure: a woman in midair, black-and-red tendrils arcing like lightning from her limbs as she swings through the cityscape.

Some of the footage is sharp. Others—grainy, distorted, captured from traffic cams or distant phones—blur the motion, but not enough to hide what she is.

Not enough to hide what she’s become.

“Project T0X1N has been found,” a man in a lab coat says, his voice level, as he steps forward and adjusts a display with gloved fingers.

Across from him, a figure stands still in the shadows—taller, broader, arms folded behind their back. Their face is hidden by darkness and silence, but the weight of authority is unmistakable.

“Send retrieval. Quiet. The symbiote must be brought in alive.”

The tech hesitates, glancing up from their console. “And the host?”

A pause.

“If she resists…” the voice replies with icy calm. “Dispose of her.”

The lab tech nods once, grim. No questions asked.

Behind them, one of the monitors zooms in on a frozen frame.

Elisa swinging through the air wildly.

End of chapter 8.